


Somewhere in Time

by H_3xe



Series: The Haunting [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Misunderstandings, Multi, Necromancy, Origin Story, Original Character(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 18:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/H_3xe/pseuds/H_3xe
Summary: A tale as old as time... Involving an iridium rich cavern.





	Somewhere in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all who read this. It truly means the world to me as this has been a labor of love for well over a year now. Special thanks to silentamour for giving me the courage to post this online instead of keeping it in my collection of OneNote files. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this or have any feedback, I'd love to hear it via the comments, kudos or simply drop me a line on Tumblr @hexederfuchs.
> 
> Until then;  
> ~H_3xe

        “Nine-hundred years ago, the supernatural lived alongside human beings whether it was direct or deep below the Earth’s surface. The origin of these beings varied from human, The Rasmodius Family who had a talent for understanding the language of the elementals; to those being born of the void, the Shadow People consisting of Shadow Brutes and Shadow Shaman who lived in the darkest depths due to their aversion to light. There were, of course, other beings of the supernatural persuasion scattered throughout the Ferngill Republic across the globe to the Gotoro Empire,” wood snapped and cracked within the brick fireplace as the flames cast an orange, yellow hue upon the walls of the worn out, old shack deep within the woods of Cindersnap Forest.

 

        Sitting in an antique, blush colored, arm chair was a man with messy orange hair. A black top hat perched atop his head while gunmetal goggles complimented his peach complexion. He wore a lime green dress shirt overlaid with a black vest with royal purple lapels and matching buttons. His dress pants were lime green with purple seams running up the sides and black wool socks adorned his feet. In his left hand was a hard-covered book with worn, yellowed pages. He sat cross-legged as a small gray mouse, whom the man fondly named Hat Mouse, wearing a gold paper crown sat in his lap. This man’s name was Dokurobatto Joka.

 

        “The Gotoro Empire had a particular supernatural born of the void native to their land. These beings were known as the Shiren; a demon, armed with an enchanted instrument, would drain the essence from their listeners, thusly empowering the instrument. With this, the Shiren are able to cast a variety of spells ranging from defensive to offensive. As such, many Shiren become travelling musicians singing songs of epics to entertain the masses and store energy within their enchanted instrument.”

 

        “Oooh!” The little mouse’s nose wiggled. “Like magic man to wood?”

 

        “Yes, dear friend,” Dokurobatto chuckled. “Like a wizard to his wand.”

 

        Hat Mouse’s ears twitched as he attentively listened to the story.

 

        “Which brings us to our tale of a young Shiren who ventured into the Ferngill Republic singing songs of mead and crispy bass,” Dokurobatto turned the yellowed page. “He was a gangly fellow armed with his trusty lute and a sophisticated sense of style. He had just entered into Stardew Valley and set up camp at the delta of the river. It had been an interminable journey, but he was certain the reward would be well worth it.”

 

        “Oooh! What reward, baws?” Hat Mouse looked up at him, starry eyed.

 

        “Essence, my dear friend,” the man poked the mouse’s nose. “Do pay attention.”

 

        “Sorry…” Hat Mouse lowered his head, ears laid flat against his head in shame.

 

        “It’s quite alright, but these minute details do become important as the story progresses,” Dokurobatto gave Hat Mouse a warm smile, gently petting his fluffy head. “It was then she caught his attention… A woman with paper white skin, eyes that sparkled like aquamarine in the afternoon sunlight, long black tresses braided beautifully down her back and a peculiar crimson colored lizard who’s under belly was a deep purple and a small emerald sat between his beady little eyes, perched upon her slender shoulder.

 

        Elegantly gliding along the ocean’s coast, the woman held a pale white bone carved into a spear in her left hand. Curious, the man watched her. There was something eerily beautiful about her… Like a ship sunken in the ocean. Raising up her paled arm, she slammed the spear down into the water. When she lifted the spear up, three fish were pegged to the tip. His stomach let out a ferocious growl obtaining the ghastly woman’s attention. Holding his stomach with an embarrassed blush painted from ear to ear, the Shiren averted his gaze from hers only to be received by the sweetest laughter from her rose-colored lips.

 

        She ventured up the hill to where he sat and offered to share her fish in exchange for the company. She motioned to his lute, and a song. The man agreed to this arrangement. That evening, he learned her name, Totenkopf Ritter and a slice of her family history. Young Totenkopf Ritter hailed from a long line of necromancers, the Ritter Family, who were known for naming their children after parts of the body. Totenkopf’s name could be translated two ways, one: skull or two: dead’s head. The Ritters had immigrated to the valley in search of fertile farm land and a better place for their young ones to cultivate their power.”

 

        “Dead poke grows nom?” Hat Mouse wiggled their nose, brow crooked in disbelief.

 

        “But of course, who better to understand life than those who oversee death?” Dokurobatto chuckled, holding up his pointer finger.

 

        “Oooh!” Hat Mouse nodded in understanding, though he didn’t want to admit he didn’t understand at all.

 

        “Allow me to clarify, dear Hat Mouse,” Dokurobatto smiled down at the little rodent. “Plants, animals, humans, and even certain supernatural creatures die. When this occurs… they’re returned to the earth where they decompose… It’s this decomposition that fertilizes the soil for newer generations of plants for the living to feed off of… The circle of life, as it were, dear friend.”

 

        “I gets!” Hat Mouse chirped, his nose wiggled happily.

 

        “Very good,” Dokurobatto pat the gentle mouse on the head. “Continuing on…” he turned the page. “As for the alien looking lizard upon her shoulder, they were known as Bone Dreads. It’s said that these noble creatures’ eggs were given to adolescent necromancers as a coming of age gift. Upon hatching, the Bone Dread must receive a blood offering to imprint upon its master. This offering links the two together and when the time comes for the necromancer to pass on… The Bone Dread passes with them. Totenkopf’s Bone Dread bore the name Memento Mori, aptly named as it translated to, ‘remember you have to die,’” the man chuckled sorrowfully. “Necromancers always had a penchant for the macabre.”

 

        “Sneeze paper, baws?” Hat Mouse held up the tissue.

 

        “Thank you, dear friend,” Dokurobatto gently took the tissue from Hat Mouse’s tiny pinked paws. Lifting his goggles, Dokurobatto dabbed the cloth under his eyes. Setting the tissue down on the end table, he cleared his throat. “Night drew near and the Shiren did as promised. He played her a song, unbeknownst to her, about his eyes first catching a glimpse of her on the shoreline. She smiled, her lips parting just enough to see her teeth in the flicker of orange and yellow from the fire. His heart leapt from within his chest, the searing burn of a flustered blush began to stain his complexion. Standing up from the log she sat upon, spear in hand, Totenkopf promised to return the next day with more fish if the Shiren promised to play her another song. An opportunity to lay eyes upon the radiant creature in front of him once more was enough motivation for him to agree.”

 

        “What next?” Hat Mouse looked up at Dokurobatto, their tiny paws clenched at the corners of their mouth.

 

        “T’was on the eve of one cold winter's night is when the Shiren had decided to make his stay in the valley a permanent one. He did what customs dictated to court a young woman residing in Stardew Valley and that was to present her with a bouquet he had made using an array local flowers. Totenkopf gleefully accepted his token of affection and handed the man a bouquet she had made using bones as her medium with a laugh. It seemed as though the pieces of the puzzle, the man called his life, were finally fitting into place,” he turned the page as the little mouse in his lap nibbled on a chunk of cheese. “However, this is where things take a bit of a sour turn for our hero and his beloved…”

 

        “No…” Hat Mouse held onto his ears, dropping his cheese chunk.

 

        “Shall I resume at another time, dear friend?” Dokurobatto asked, his brow hitched to his hairline.

 

        “No, no! Need to know!” Hat Mouse wriggled, flailing his arms. “Now!”

 

        “Alright, alright…” the man chuckled, patting Hat Mouse’s head once more then handing him the cheese his dropped. “Deep within the Calico Desert, there laid a nameless cavern whose walls were lined with iridium ore, a rare metal said to have come from the heavens above. As a result, the cavern had a haunting, iridescent glow. High concentrations of ore had warped the slimes dwelling inside, turning them a deep purple color. How the ore would affect a necromancer was not yet known by the elder of the Ritter family. His daughter, Totenkopf's, fascination... borderline obsession... with the cavern disquieted him."

 

        “Oh no…” Hat Mouse chewed nervously on his claws.

 

        “She had been particularly fond of the cavern’s underground lake and would bathe in it whenever the opportunity presented itself. Steadily, her pale blue aura began to shift to a haunting lavender color. Her skeletal summons no longer featured white bones… but were opalescent. Hues of purple, blue and green ran down her midnight tresses like an oil spill upon tar. Those aquamarine orbs that the Shiren so loved, gained an eerie purple glow in a u-shape around the pupil.”

 

        “Scary…” The little mouse shuddered in Dokurobatto’s lap.

 

        “Confronting his beloved Totenkopf, the Shiren begged her to cease her visits to the cavern. Turning to look at him over her shoulder, eyes that normally glittered like an Aquamarine gem were now as cold as a Frozen Tear. Concern swept over his being, he reached out to her pleading with her to realize that the cavern was changing her. Slapping his hand away, Totenkopf stated, without a fragment of emotion, that the cavern had changed her for the better.

 

        She gazed upon her hand then shifted her frozen gaze to his. Like lightning had struck his heart, the color drained from the Shiren's face. It was in that moment, he realized his beloved was a mere shell of her former self. Coldly, she gave the Shiren her take on why her father and her beloved were so adamant on her abstaining from the cavern. In her mind, she felt they were afraid... Afraid of how powerful she would become. Succeeding her father and ushering in a new era of necromancers.

        He heard her explanation, but could not process what she had spoken. These cold, lifeless words cut him like a dagger through the heart. When he went to protest her claim, his words fell upon the deaf ears of the corrupted as she sauntered away…”

 

        “Nooooo….” Gator tears beaded down Hat Mouse’s gray fur.

 

        “There, there, dear friend…” the man gently wiped the mouse’s tears away with a tissue.

 

        “What then?” Hat Mouse turned the page.

 

        “Right, right,” Dokurobatto gave Hat Mouse a half smile as he adjusted himself in the chair. “Humans began to mine within the ancestral home of the Shadow People. For decades, the supernatural were nothing more than fairy tales to the humans. That is, until they ventured down into the pre-existing caverns they believed to be carved out from the river's current. It was fear that drove the humans to slaughter countless beings who called that mine home..."

 

        "But, why?" Hat Mouse turned his head to look upon Dokurobatto.

 

        "Fear is a powerful motivator, dear friend," Dokurobatto sighed heavily. "And it is that same fear that fueled this dreadful war," Dokurobatto cleared his throat. "Dwarves had been gunning for the sacred home of the Shadow People for quite some time. The humans mining within these caverns only added to the tension.

 

        Opportunity landed in Totenkopf's lap. She used this tension to her advantage to unify the supernatural beings of the mine to preserve their home. Totenkopf touted a world where the supernatural would be free to exist without fear of extinction. A world without humanity..."

 

        "But... not Toko poke?" Hat Mouse quizzically rose his brow.

 

        "Necromancers are, in fact, human," Dokurobatto affirmed. "However, Totenkopf ventured down the path forbidden by the laws of nature…” Dokurobatto opened his left eye revealing a crimson orb. “This path was known by necromancers as Mortuus Magistri or Master of the Dead. Master of the Dead requires the necromancer to sacrifice their humanity in order to obtain immortality. Necromancers have no power over the flesh, so the body will still age. The necromancer would feel their body rot over time until all that remained was their skeleton held together by the bonds of a forbidden magic, a lich.”

 

        Hat Mouse grimaced at the thought, hugging himself tightly, "So, Toko no poke no more."

 

        “Precisely,” the man gently stroked the mouse’s head. “Calling out to her, the Shiren pleaded with his beloved to cease her nonsense and to think of the casualties her actions would incur. Like a chilled winter’s breeze, she informed him that if he could not align himself with their cause that he would become one of these casualties. His eyes widened as the weight of her threat crushed his heart.

 

        With a heavy heart, the Shiren returned to the Ritter farmland to inform the elder of his beloved’s intentions. It was then the Shiren and the Rasmodius Family elder, A. Rasmodius had become acquainted. The elder of the Ritter and Rasmodius Families believed if they pooled their resources together it could be possible to rid Totenkopf of her mastery and strip away the insanity that plagued her. Hopeful, the Shiren offered aid only to be scrutinized by A. Rasmodius. The notion of a demon wanting to purify a necromancer was laughable to him. Having suffered the loss of his beloved and now having to endure the scrutiny of an outsider, the Shiren had his fair share of Yoba gutting him like a fish. Angrily, he declared he was not like his kind, at least he hadn’t been once he laid eyes upon Totenkopf that warm summer afternoon. Moved by the Shiren’s words, A. Rasmodius accepted the Shiren’s aid with a firm shake of their hands.”

 

        “What then?! What then?!” Hat Mouse clapped his paws, bouncing up and down.

 

        “Goodness me, dear friend,” Dokurobatto chuckled, dabbing his temple with the tissue. “Patience, patience, we’ll get there shortly.” He set the tissue back down onto the end table, turning the page belonging to the weathered book. Dokurobatto cleared his throat and continued the tale. “A season had passed, the war between the supernatural and humans raged on like a wildfire ripping through a dry thicket. A. Rasmodius and the Ritter elder were no closer to finding a cure for her curse than they were a season ago.

 

        The Shiren, as crafty of a gentleman as he was, had been formulating a plan to end the war for the good of both parties involved and with the fewest casualties. He dismantled his enchanted lute creating the body of the bow from the sound board and ribs, the strings of the instrument were fastened into the bow’s strings, the pegs rest north and south upon the bow allowing the strings to be loosened or tightened, the arrow shelf was crafted from the bridge and a line of sight was made using the nut. He then forged an iridium arrowhead with the aid of the Elves of Cindersnap Forest, using the neck of his lute as the arrow’s shaft.

 

        Venturing down into the darkest depths of the nameless cavern, the Shiren fastened a talisman, similarly to the one he had crafted and attached to the end of the arrow, to a lone boulder laying in the center of the desolate shaft. It was here Totenkopf would rest for eternity…”

 

        “How?” Hat Mouse crooked his brow.

 

        “We will get there shortly, dear friend,” the man assured his cohort, turning the page of the book gently. Clearing his throat, Dokurobatto resumed, “Could he truly, without hesitation, fire the arrow into his beloved knowing it would be the last time he would lay eyes upon her corporal form? He knew the answer in the back of his mind, but was too stubborn to admit it.

 

        As his final encounter with Totenkopf drew nearer by the day, the Shiren fought with himself until reality came crashing down upon him like loose stone from the cliffside. He knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he couldn’t complete the task. It was then he decided he needed to recruit an able body who could do what he couldn’t.

 

        This search had led the curious Shiren to check on the status of the elders’ research. Opportunity presented itself when he happened upon the conversation exchange A. Rasmodius and the Ritter elder. A. Rasmodius explained that there was no method plausible to reverse her mastery and the only option they had to end this war was to end her life. The Ritter elder wondered how such a task could be accomplished given Totenkopf no longer bore the mortal status.

 

        The Shiren emerged from the corner he hid behind, apologizing for his intrusion however he had a solution to their dilemma in the form of an arrow he had crafted with the aid of the elves. A. Rasmodius inquired how he happened upon such a magic. The young man smirked, inform informing him that Shirens, being of the void, had access to a wider pool of magic than most. The young man then proceeded to discuss the weapon he had constructed that would yield the desired result the elders so sought after or, so he led them to believe…" Dokurobatto put his feet up on the ottoman that rest in front of his chair, crossing one ankle over the other.

 

        Hat Mouse gasped, covering his little mouth with tiny pink paws, "He in cahoots with Toko?!"

 

        "Goodness, no, dear friend," Dokurobatto shook his head from side to side. "If you recall, the Ritter elder too questioned how death could befall Totenkopf given her mastery." Dokuro shifted his gaze down toward the mouse in his lap. "So, allow me to ask you this… How does one go about putting to rest an immortal?"

 

        "Cut off head!" Hat Mouse looked up at Dokurobatto with a big smile.

 

        "Ah… Afraid not," Dokurobatto smiled half-heartedly, a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face.

 

        "Mayonnaise!" Hat Mouse snapped his fingers in disappointment.

 

        Dokurobatto cleared his throat as he turned the page of the book, "A. Rasmodius was an aged man with poor eye sight and as such was ill suited to perform the task necessary. He entrusted the bow and arrow to his only son, L. Rasmodius, who was renowned for his skill in archery." With a smirk and a shake of his head, Dokurobatto mused. "Why the elder Rasmodius didn't give his son the bow in the first place is most troubling." Shrugging his shoulders, Dokurobatto sighed. "I suppose it was a matter of pride or something to that effect." He twirled his wrist around.

 

        "Baws!!" Hat Mouse squirmed impatiently.

 

        "Right, right, I do apologize," Dokurobatto cleared his throat after having gotten off topic. "Continuing on… The roars of soldiers, the clank of swords against one another, and the stench of death permeated the air like a thick fog. Blood dripped down from the bushes' leaves into the stream below then was swiftly carried away by the current. Standing proudly with two lavender revenants at her side was none other than Totenkopf. Similarly, to a possessed porcelain doll, her eyes were hallowed as a ghastly grin crooked the corners of her mouth upward." Dokurobatto paused. "His heart sank inside his chest as doubt washed over him like the tide to the shoreline. There was only one shot... Zero margin for error... and if all went accordingly... Like a bolt through his nervous system, the last time he would lay eyes upon his beloved..." He turned the page. "Like an eraser to a chalkboard, her grin was quickly wiped away. Replaced by anger once her cold eyes beheld the forces her beloved had brought to the battlefield. The wizards, the elves, and her own family.

 

        In a fit of blind fury, Totenkopf unearthed iridium infused rib bones from ground below. Some managed to puncture the rebelling forces. It was then the Shiren saw an opening, quickly giving the signal to L. Rasmodius perched atop a nearby tree… As if time itself had come to a screeching halt, images of the arrow flying toward Totenkopf clipped through the young man's eyes.

 

        Lavender orbs widened. Drops of blood dripped from the arrow's tip lodged into her sternum. A shaky hand reached up to touch the arrow, Totenkopf's expression was one of disbelief. She had been shot and slowly her body began to deteriorate. Following suit was her beloved Memento Mori, a grizzly roar burst forth from its maw. Blood oozed from the Shiren's right eye, bearing the insignia of the seal."

 

        Hat Mouse held his paws up to his mouth, tears welled up in his little, brown eyes.

 

        "Totenkopf cursed his name as her spirit departed from the battlefield. The Shiren, evermore, was bound to her spirit that would eternally rest within the darkest depths of the Nameless Cavern. The Shiren fell to his knees, a mixture of blood and tears fell onto the ground below. All he could muster in that moment was a simple phrase, 'When the cold in your heart leaves it comes to an end, my love... Quietly, we'll go to sleep...'"

 

        Tears flowed down his cheeks, Hat Mouse's nose made a small trumpet noise as he blew into the sleeve of Dokurobatto's dress shirt.

 

        "Lovely…" Dokurobatto grimaced, shutting the book slowly. Lowering his legs from the ottoman, Dokurobatto mused, "As lore would have it, there was a key forged from Memento Mori's smallest digit," he wiggled his pinkie finger. "That unlocks the seal placed upon the cavern's opening. Those explorers brave enough to venture into the abandoned mines and make it to the bottom are rewarded this key…" Dokurobatto folded his hands in his lap, the fire's light glinted off of his goggles. "I do suppose that it's assumed if the explorer could fight their way to the bottom of that creature infested dungeon… That they would have the virility to withstand the dangers that lurk in that cavern so aptly named after the woman said to be sealed within its depths, Skull Cavern…"

 

        "Poke ever has?" Hat Mouse wiggled his nose as he looked up at Dokurobatto.

 

        "There are rumors that only one man was awarded the key," Dokurobatto stood up, cupping Hat Mouse in the palm of his hand. Sauntering toward the window, the pitter patter of rain echoed the old shack. "However, he was driven to the brink of insanity shortly after his travels…" Dokurobatto looked out at the rainy landscape of the forest, the wizard's spire in the distance. "It leads one to wonder if those who obtain this key are seeking some truth to the old fable. Is there truly an end to that cavern and if so, will there be a boulder resting in the center where Totenkopf is said to rest for eternity?"

        Thunder rumbled in the distance.

 


End file.
